Men
by CloudedCreation
Summary: It was a peculiar way to meet, but then, most things normal didn't associate with them in the first place.


Waking up on a cold rock floor was never a particularly pleasant experience. Waking up on said floor with a massive hangover, wounds all over your body and no recollection of just _how_ you got there in the first place was turning out to be even worse. Harry would know, seeing as he has woken up on rocky ground several times in the past, but this was actually the first time he had done so with a raging hangover.

It felt like his brain was leaking out of his ears, nose and mouth at the same pace his cuts and bruises were bleeding.

_Not _pleasant.

"Hey, you alright there?" A voice – male, confident, strong – asked him.

Harry just groaned in return while he put his hands to his ears to stifle the noise that banged against his eardrums.

"Well, you're alive at least." The man was chuckling now, and damn it if the sound didn't go straight to Harry's very gay cock. Very _hurt _homosexual cock, he decided as the twitch in his nether regions wasn't only out of interest. "Just lay still for a while and I'll heal the worst of it."

_Not like I'm in a condition to move anyway_, Harry thought grimly. Because really, he was hurting _everywhere_.

But then, he felt something warm envelop him. Kinda like magic but not really, he couldn't explain the difference but he could _feel_ it. And where the glowing feeling was most potent, he could suddenly perceive his body healing, knitting separated ends back together, repairing cells and putting them back in place.

He groaned in bliss.

After several more minutes of the same treatment, Harry finally braved to open his eyes, the question of just _who_ that was currently busy restoring him to his prime condition bugging his tired mind something humongous.

_Blond_, was the first thought that he registered, soon followed by startling blue eyes and bulging muscles. The guy was built, that was for sure. And tall, even when observing him from his position on the floor Harry knew that the man was around a foot taller than himself.

The stranger noticed him watching and gave a small smile in return, his expression slightly forced as if he weren't used to smiling much. _Or he's one of the more clever ones who treat wounded strangers in caves with the suspicion they should be treating them with._

Harry coughed harshly, before croaking out with a sore throat, "Thank you."

"No problem." The man eyed him warily before continuing. "Might be nice to know how you ended up like that, though."

Harry gave a grim smile, _so he _is_ one of the smart ones._ "Was out drinking myself to oblivion when some scumbags who were quite unhappy with me decided I was better off dead than alive. They didn't quite manage that particular goal, but they did succeed in roughing me up before I got to them." Harry moved to sit up, wincing slightly at the soreness that occupied his whole body.

The blond tilted his head to the side, "got to them?"

Harry flashed a predatory smile. "Drunk or not, I am more than capable of defending myself. Anyway, so I declined their invitation to the afterlife, giving them the offer in return, and tried to get back to my flat." Harry frowned as he still didn't know where the fuck he was. "And I, didn't quite manage that either, now did I. Everything is a little fussy after I left the alley, so I don't really know how I got here. Or where here is, for that matter. Any idea?"

The blond frowned as he considered the question, not quite knowing how to handle his blatant telling of being a competent fighter of some kind it seemed. "Well, seeing as we are in the middle of nowhere and I didn't spot any vehicles nearby when I stopped here for shelter from the storm, I can't exactly think of anything."

Harry swore under his breath. "Except that my shitty luck has struck once again."

Blondie smiled amusedly at him, losing some of his guardedness. "Except that, perhaps."

Both men let the silence reign for a moment, taking time to accumulate the information they'd received, and, in the case of the black-haired one of the duo, checking over his body to see the damage still in need of healing.

Finally sure that he wouldn't drop dead anytime soon, Harry decided it was time he found out more about his rescuer. Both because of the fact that he had the man to thank for his life and that it would be vital in his figuring out just where to go from here, but mostly because he was attractive as hell and Harry hadn't gotten laid for too long a time.

"So, what are you doing here? Seeing as it is the middle of nowhere."

His companion flashed a quick smile, _god did that look good on him_, and answered. "Delivering a package up north, had to go through here to get back home. The name's Cloud Strife, by the way."

"Oh, yes, name, forgot about that. Mine's Harry Potter."

Both men eyed each other, anxiously waiting for the other to recognize them and be treated differently. When no reaction came from either of them, relieved smiles slowly made their ways onto their faces.

"You know, Cloud, I think we'll get along fabulously."

Cloud barked out a laugh and reached out a hand, "why, I believe you are right, Harry."

Harry took the hand and shook it with a firm grip, the quivering in his belly only enhancing the feeling of the moment.

They were dangerous, capable fighters who had fought for what they thought was right. Famous soldiers among their people, recognized by everyone, but neither enjoying their hero-status.

Right now they were just men. Strong men admittedly, but not saints, not devils and _not_ heroes.

They were damned pleased about that.


End file.
